


The Ultimate Sacrifice

by AFereldanMage



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Ultimate Sacrifice, Uncle-Nephew Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 01:12:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6731761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AFereldanMage/pseuds/AFereldanMage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Blight is over. The Archdemon has been defeated.<br/>Solona Amell, former Circle Mage, Grey Warden; and now the Hero of Ferelden made the Ultimate Sacrifice to make it happen.<br/>Meanwhile, King Alistair grieves over the loss of his former lover, and finds he isn't as alone as he thinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ultimate Sacrifice

 “ _In the months that followed his coronation, Alistair surprised many by studying the art of governance and doing his best to rule the kingdom with a fair and even hand. He proved quite popular with the people, his humour and easy grace winning them over as much as his willingness to sneak out of the castle and mingle in the lower-class taverns on occasion_

_Alistair felt the loss of his love keenly, and the memory of his fellow Warden’s death lay heavily on him, and Alistair was often seen out in the gardens of the palace, insisting on being alone among the rose bushes he had planted in memory of his deceased lover. When they wilted, there was always a single living rose which he would pick and place upon a statue that was erected in Solona’s honour._ ”

 

* * *

 

The man in question was sitting on the floor at the end of his bed in his chambers. Alistair re-read the farewell at the end over and over. Each letter suffocating him by forming a huge lump in his throat. Trying to swallow it down only made the swelling worse, and his hands shook as he traced his fingers over Solona’s name; as if trying to pull her out of the vellum. Barkspawn whined softly beside him, and Alistair’s face crumpled, his welled eyes spilt tears again and he cracked. Hiding his face in arms as he brought his knees up to his face; his body racked with sobs and he didn’t even try to be quiet. It hurt too much, knowing he had broken the heart of the only woman he had ever loved and allowed her to die within the space of a few weeks. No one deserved that, and especially not his ‘Lona. Not even his new duties as Ferelden’s new monarch could distract him. Eamon had decided to finally let the young King grieve. It had been a just over five months now since the Blight was ended, and a lot of repairing was still to be done. He had put on a brave face in front of nobles, his soldiers, and the common folk. But no one was blind to the pain in his eyes or to how much his mouth ached when he smiled. Unbeknownst to him; it was something his people admired him for, but passing months took their toll, and he was found to be prone to breakdowns. His hands shaking, fists clenching, eyes welling and a sharp intake of breath before a quick escape… and this happened _every time_ the Hero of Ferelden was brought up. _She deserved so much more_ …

 

The rose bushes were planted a month after the blight in a protected gardened corner outside the palace that wasn’t touched by the Blight. No one bothered him there. Not even Wynne or Leliana. Barkspawn would follow him without fault; protecting him at his deceased mistress’ wish no doubt. Zevran left shortly after the funeral. A note was left, addressed to Alistair in an attempted state of humour to call on him if he needed someone assassinated; but he knew the elven rogue grieved as he did, well, maybe not in the way Alistair did. Sten had bowed once and left without a farewell. Oghren had surprisingly no will to drink and was without laughter since Solona’s death-- went to see Felsi again, he believed. Shale had returned to Orzammar and caused quite a commotion from what he heard.

 

Leliana had kept to herself, penning something across the vellum she kept in a small stack until one day she began to sing again, it was heart-wrenching to hear the words that left her lips and then after a single performance of the song she wrote for their beloved Solona, Leliana left. Wynne would remain solemn, often returning to the Circle to make sure it hadn’t been burnt down so she mused. The Mages, however, despite strengthened by their newfound freedom Alistair granted them, grew ever quieter. They mourned their fellow mage, he knew that. Even the Templars in the tower were quiet. According to the Senior Enchanter, those in the tower hardly ever smiled. Grief was ever fresh, even the First Enchanter had withdrawn to mourn in silence.

 

And Alistair related to that greatly. He had been reclusive and isolated for nearly two weeks.

 

* * *

 

It was childish, crying himself to sleep. And his back ached when he was shaken awake.

 

“Alistair?” Teagan’s worried voice snapped the drowsiness. He felt empty, and very slowly looked up to meet his surrogate Uncle, weary brown eyes met worried blue as a hand pressed gently on his shoulder. The older man sighed.

 

“I know you’re grieving Alistair, we all are. But Solona wouldn’t want you to give into this.” He spoke softly, but there was a crack in his voice when he said _her_ name.

 

Alistair looked up at him.

 

“What did she write to _you_ about?” He asked dryly. It was common knowledge that Solona had written a frighteningly large pile of letters in such a short time, and left them in the guest room she was staying in back in Redcliffe. Teagan had tensed and averted his gaze for a moment before looking back at his nephew and sat on the floor next to him, leaning back against the bed.

 

“She _apologised_ , not that there was a need to and asked me to..." He paused. " To look out for you.”

 

Alistair raised an eyebrow. Teagan looked hesitant... Alistair knew his Uncle had been rather infatuated with Solona.

 

“She also spoke about _us_ , “if only things had been different” to coin my own words.”

 

The corner of Alistair’s lips perked up just mildly. “So you did _like_ her.”

 

The corners of the older man’s lips weakly curled upwards; a momentary relief passing over his face.

 

“I admired her greatly, Alistair. I cared... yes. But she was not mine to have. And she loved _you_.” His voice was hard but gentle. “I respected that.”

 

“Anything else?”

 

At that, the Bann of Rainsefere chuckled, if dryly. “She said she hopes I “find someone to look after me” in the future. She wants me to be happy.”

 

Alistair hummed and smiled painfully. “She wanted everyone to be happy.”

 

He sniffed.

 

"That's just Solona being Solona. Selfless to everyone but herself." He then paused before asking, “Will, you ever marry?” As he leant back against the board.

 

Teagan had straightened up a bit, clearly running through his thoughts for an answer, then sighed.

 

“I doubt it, it shan’t be a very happy marriage.” The Bann murmured. “The moment I met Solona, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to look at another woman that way again.”

 

“How so?” Alistair asked as he straightened up.

 

“A woman who is as beautiful within as she is outside is...  _very_ hard to come by, especially in Ferelden. The length of Solona’s compassion will be very hard to beat.”

 

 _That was true_.

 

“I won’t marry.” Alistair declared. Teagan looked at him. “I don’t care, King or not, I can’t marry a woman I will never love, not properly anyway. Not when the only one who has ever truly loved me, whom I will love always in return… is gone forever.”

 

“Then Calenhad’s bloodline will end,” Teagan whispered.

 

Alistair didn’t even flinch. “All lines end eventually. Maybe my predecessors had a few bastard lines stored away somewhere. If not, then Cousland can have the throne.”

 

“Fergus wouldn’t take it willingly,” Teagan warned. Alistair knew it was pointless to argue against willingness. The poor man’s family had been brutally murdered by his Father’s traitor of a friend, Arl Rendon Howe. All of them were dead. Teyrn Bryce Cousland and his wife, their daughter Elissa, along with Fergus’ own wife and their young son were murdered in their own home. He hadn’t heard from the Teyrn since a week after the coronation. He often wondered if any bodies were recovered.

 

“Then marry him to Anora, then the two Teyrnirs will be _united_ and perhaps Ferelden will prosper once again.” He suggested dryly, already bored with the subject of their conversation.

 

“Eamon will have a fit.” Teagan joked and Alistair scoffed but there was a faint smile appearing on his lips. Teagan took that opportunity to encourage it.

 

“Come on, do _that_ for _her_.” He said softly as he nudged his shoulder playfully into the young King. Alistair stared at his Uncle and his smile widened and was truly genuine as he nodded. The Mabari barked cheerfully and stood, encouraging him it seemed. Alistair looked at the animal and ruffled his ears making Barkspawn growl playfully as he put his paw on Alistair's leg.

 

“Help me up will you, my butt has become numb.” Alistair finally said, wincing as he tried and failed to get up. Teagan laughed as he stood and grasped his foster nephew’s arm and pulled him up. Alistair was wobbly and fell right back onto the bed, almost pulling Teagan down on him.

 

“Now Alistair, that’s not what I had in mind.” He joked as Alistair flushed, glaring.

 

“Just because you’re my favourite Uncle, I’ll forget this even happened.” He grumbled as he stood.

 

“Oh, and there has been news from the Grey Wardens,” Teagan said slowly and Alistair looked at him. Teagan hated dampening the newly risen cheer but Alistair needed to know. A wet nose on his palm indicated Barkspawn agreed.

 

“They’re sending the Orlesian Wardens into Ferelden, they’ve elected a _new_ Warden-Commander for Ferelden’s Wardens.” He said. Alistair scoffed. The title of Commander of the Grey should have been Solona’s. Barkspawn whimpered beside him.

 

“Well, let’s hope these are more cheerful than the ones up North.” He said with a flat smile.

 

“And _she_ was laid to rest up in Weisshaupt, the letter came this morning.” He said.

 

Alistair tensed but nodded. “Well, I’d rather you tell me before anyone else. At least I know she got there safely."

 

"Now I have a kingdom run it seems.” Alistair always had humour in his defence. Solona had liked his wayward humour.

 

“Drinks later?” Teagan offered and Alistair grinned as he straightened himself out.

 

“You’re on.” He said as he made towards the door. Until Teagan’s voice carried over.

 

“Uh, shouldn’t you get dressed first?” He called as Alistair’s hand touched the handle and the young King looked down at himself to find he was in nothing but a shirt and trousers.

 

“Good point. I’ll be ready in a few minutes.” He muttered as he turned to find his clothes.

 

The Bann of Rainsefere merely grinned as he waited outside the door. Silently thanking the Maker that his nephew was returning.

**Author's Note:**

> Poor Alistair grieving for his deceased lover and Teagan being a good Uncle.  
> For Solona's [Letter](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5575168/chapters/12851200).


End file.
